Treatment Play

3:38pm.  In office, at school.  Pretty much ready for class tonight, in that I’ll be working with the 302 students on their outlines.  Then with 100, just collecting their papers and meeting with whomever wants to about their final paper.  Fall, already registering on stress’ radar.  Wouldn’t say I’m stressed, just toying with ideas for lectures, Literature, ideas for discussions.  Should probably walk over to the bookstore to see what other 5 professors are using.

Wine club letters I wrote, painful.  Writing the same thing over, over, over.. repeated.  If I didn’t drive to the winery, walk from car to tasting Room, to back office, then upstairs to secluded breakroom to scribble these obligatory gestures, who knows what I could have done for book, for blog, for Self.  No good to think about that now.

Want to go for a run tomorrow morning, around 5 if I can.  No wine tonight, just sparkling water.  And, early to bed.  OR, should I run AFTER work tomorrow?  Not planning, just going to see what happens.  Should check my email, see if any students aren’t showing tonight.  Was reading a new friend’s blog, about her travels overseas to Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe.. reminds me of all the stories out there, that I can trap, Self-publish.  Speaking of, I brought stash with me, to count here in this windowless quarter–








Don’t want to rush-publish something with this pot.  Or maybe I do.  Want these funds to work for ME.  Thought about dumping them into the Schwab1 acct, but decided against.  Most of this is tip money, so I want it to contribute to a story, like the Kosta Browne guys.

Do I take a walk, do I take a walk…  Could use one of those iced coffee drinks they have in the bookstore.  Then I could walk over to racks, see what 5 instructors are pushing these days.  Want more poetry in my sections.. wait.. Critical Thinking, blended with Art– fiction, expository, poetry.  Has to be different, radically different while still accomplishing what these courses are “intended” to.

Stuffed stash into newJournals, earlier today.  This one page fell onto floor, right in front of Jackie.  What could THAT mean?  Maybe more poetry, I guess.  Haven’t read the page.  Will when I get back from bookstore walk.

4:01pm.  Counting.  Hate that, what the clock makes me do.  Time for walk.

4:14pm.  Need to look into the course outline for English 5 here at SRJC.. one prof is using Les Mis’, another using one of Austen’s novels.  Warm outside, and it’s projected to be even higher temps tomorrow.  Should plan on morning run.

One student, by Self, on lawn, leaning on backpack, right leg up, crossed over bent left, writing.  Couldn’t see content, obviously, but the young gentleman was working on a full page.  Pen, paper.. should follow such rhythm.  One of my blogging friends from Sonoma having trouble with computer this morning, making it more than unnerving to work.  She was so frustrate that she just left her office, not sure if she went back.

= Thought while walking to bookstore, I have my business in my pocket [stash].